


Don’t You Hear My Call?

by fun_it



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, I love these stories, I’ll redo tags later, I’m terrible at tagging, Other, Roger is Ben’s dad, ahhhhhh, and so on and so forth, hinted maylor, maybe acted on who knows, single dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:47:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22232023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fun_it/pseuds/fun_it
Summary: Roger Taylor awakes to knocking on his flat’s front door after a boozy night out and is greeted to a small blond child with large eyes staring at him, calling him ‘dad’. What on Earth is he meant to do now finding out that he has a four year old child named ‘Ben’ who he had never been told about?
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Jim Hutton, John Deacon/Veronica Tetzlaff
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44





	1. Cigarettes and Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by many other single dad fics I’ve read and I’ve felt inspired to write my own... I hope you enjoy!
> 
> *no events in this book took place in real life... just in case anyone was unsure for some reason :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Cigarettes and Alcohol - Oasis

Minimal sunshine peaked through the curtains of the 3rd flat on the second floor into the bedroom of a severely hungover Roger Taylor who had very much enjoyed a boozy night out with his band mates - or rather part of a night out with his band mates who were all father’s and two out of the three husbands who had far more responsibility than himself: single, childless and still in the prime of his life at 24 years old. 

Roger groaned as he turned onto the cold side of the mattress, blocking out the little light which seemed to amplify itself and blind his hungover state. Taking in a deep breath through his nose, he recalled last night’s memories. He, Brian and John had all gone over to Freddie’s to discuss the business side of Queen, which lead to a glass of champagne and a toast to their new and successful album ‘Sheer Heart Attack’, and mostly to Freddie’s groundbreaking song Killer Queen, which became an instant hit due to their spot on Top of the Pops thanks to Bowie pulling out last minute. The year had been overly outstanding year for Queen and the four of them could only hope that the next year would even more recognition; especially with their fourth album to be recorded in the summer of the next year. 

The next thing he remembered was going to a pub with his friends for a few hours - Brian retired first to pick up his 7 year old son, Gwilym, from his Mother’s home. With his youngest, Joe (6), prone to bouts of separation anxiety from his father and was known to be a handful at bedtime, John departed next to assist his wife. Freddie hung on for as long as possible, having the only one child, Rami - aged 8, and also having Jim stay home to look after him hand it’s perks. He also didn’t want to leave Roger on his own, sensing that his friend had been possibly lonely without his mates always available for a drink or just to play music together without any seriousness and outside of studio time. 

However, Freddie did have to leave at some point and he did just so at around 11pm, telling him: ‘don’t stay out too late, darling, I don’t want to wake up tomorrow morning to find put you’ve been killed in a car crash or that you’ve impregnated some poor girl!’

The rest of the night becomes a blur for Roger, he remembers leaving the pub, with full intentions to go home, but ending up in a nightclub. As far as he was aware, he drank his own weight in various drinks with fun and crazy names, flirted with a handful of women and left at 2am, shortly before the club would close. The only thing Roger could be certain that night was that he did not have sex with anyone, nor take a girl home.

Roger let out a loud sigh as he flipped in his bed once more, regretting last night’s antics, but knowing that tonight would probably become something similar - except this time maybe with some luck and his charm, he’d pull and bring a girl home.

His thoughts lingered, trying to ignore the increasing headache growing and wishing to simply drift back off to sleep for a couple more hours before someone, most likely Brian, would call him and force him to wake up and just generally check up on him like, he usually did after nights out. 

But the new sound of knocking on his front door did not allow it. Roger ignored it, insinuating that his mind was playing tricked and it was just the throbbing of his head, but after they persisted louder and then suddenly died, he knew he had to check it. Whether it was his angry neighbour (who’s mat outside his door had been puked on one too many times), or Brian, the nagging curiosity in him had to drag himself out of bed to check. 

Fumbling with the key in the lock, he eventually turned it enough for the ‘click’ to tell him the door was now open. Roger swung it open wide, not caring all too much about his bare chest on show to whoever was outside, standing in only pyjama bottoms he had somehow drunkenly put on himself the night before. He stared out bemusedly, not a person in sight. 

He stuck his head out and looked around, his blue eyes finally falling on a little boy clutching on the handle of a bag as though his life had depended on it. Roger withdrew and stared out i front of him, trying to comprehend what was happening. Eventually, he poked his head out of the door again and looked directly at the child. 

The child stared back up at him with large, green and glassy eyes as though he had been crying. His head was full of blonde hair that was disheveled in a similar way to Roger’s. Anyone looking on who didn’t know what was happening would assume this child was Roger’s. But that’s totally crazy; there was no way this child could be his kid. 

Roger cleared his throat and bend down to the child’s level. “Um... is your mummy and daddy around? Are you lost?” He wasn’t even sure if the kid could understand him - with how small he was, Roger guessed he must’ve been 3, max. “What’s your name?”

“M-my name is Ben,” the little boy stuttered, not used to talking to complete strangers. 

“Ben,” Roger muttered to himself, “Ben, where are your parents? Your mummy or daddy?” 

“Daddy it’s cold,” Ben whined, making grabby hands at Roger, making sure to keep ahold of the bag. Roger stumbled back and fell onto his backside. ‘Daddy’?

“Ben, I’m not your daddy,” he tried to explain, but the child would have none of it. 

“My mummy... my mummy said you’re my daddy and brought me here becuase she doesn’t want me anymore.” 

Though he was unsure on the truth of the story, Roger felt his heart break a little. Who the hell would just abandon their kid? He sighed, unsure of what to do. If he left the kid outside, he could be put into danger; god knows the type of people who lived in this apartment building. But if he took him inside, would it technically count as kidnapping? And who was this child? Did he actually have a kid?

Deciding that a kidnap allegation would make him feel much better than hearing of a child murdered around his area of living and would sit better in his conscience. He let the child in, who let out a strangled cry of relief. 

“What’s I’m the bag, Ben?” He asked gently. Ben immediately held it out for Roger to take and look through. It was filled with a few T-shirt’s, trousers, and a toy. All Ben had was the clothes Andy toy in the bag and a what was on his back: a jumper, a coat, trousers, socks and trainers. Insider was also pieces of paper in a pocket. The first was a letter. 

_Dear Roger,_

_First of all I’m sorry. I should’ve contacted you and told you of Benjamin the second I found out I was pregnant. And I know leaving him on your doorstep isn’t exactly the way I wanted to do it._

_I know you’re his father. He is exactly like you in every way possible, loud, reckless, but also sensitive and docile when he wants to be. And that’s why I repulse him. He does not feel like my own, all I see is a silly mistake I made as a young woman on a rebound mission at 20 years old. I did not seek for a child, maybe I should’ve said yes when you asked if we should use protection. And I hate him. And becuase I hate him and what I’ve brought into the world, I hate you too._

_Yet I can’t face seeing him going into the system. He needs to be with his dad - he’s a carbon copy of his dad. And as mentioned before, I have no doubt that you are his father. It breaks my heart to say I can’t emotionally attach to him, I feel no maternal instinct and he know she that he was an accident, a mistake and a burden. I tried. I really did. It didn’t work._

_His name is Benjamin Meddows Hardy-Taylor - I recall you saying something about Meddows being a family name? I chose for him to have a double barrelled surname in hopes it would help me connect with him but it didn’t. His birthday is the 2nd of January and he was born in 1970, making next January his 5th birthday._

_Inclosed is important documents, including legal papers which you need to sign and send in to put him into your full custody. He does not go to any preschool and is due to join primary next September. But that’s your problem now, not mine._

_From_

_Sarah Hardy_

Roger couldn’t believe what he was reading, suddenly feeling a great wave of sympathy for the poor boy. His mother clearly didn’t love him all that much and his life so far couldn’t have been that great. All he had was Roger. 

And now Roger had to try and figure out what mess he had just gotten in unwillingly.


	2. Tricky Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger tries to figure out what to do now he has Ben, and calls a friend for some help and advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from It’s a Hard Life - Queen  
> -
> 
> Clearly, these events have not occurred in real life - but you already knew that. No disrespect is meant towards these lovely people in real life.

Roger looked at the child, who stood staring at him, still as a statue. He still couldn’t comprehend anything relating to his current situation. The kid was his - _Ben_ \- was his child. That must’ve made him what, 20 when he had him?

Yeah, Brian and Freddie were both around the same age when they had their kids, but they had planned to have a child, it was what they had wanted, they knew what they were getting into. Roger had never planned for children, not at 24, anyways. He wanted to wait for the right woman, know her for quite a while before they could even consider a baby, and besides, a lady would likely want to be married before she has children (more so her likely-to-be old-fashioned father doesn’t disown her), and Roger knew he wanted to move out of his crappy two-bedroom flat before he had a kid.

For a long time, with the steady rate of his and Dominique’s relationship had been going, Roger believed that she could have been the one who he would marry, own a house with, be the woman who would bring their children into the world. But that had all changed when they broke up after a four-year relationship a year ago.

Roger shook his thoughts away and brought himself back to the matter at hand. Ben.

“Erm... Ben?” The child’s attention was immediately snapped to him. “Did your mummy leave you here? Or did she send you here by yourself?” He asked gently.

“Mummy... knocked on the door and then ran away quickly,” Ben replied, forming words and stringing a sentence together that was quite impressive for a four-year-old.

Roger rushed to the window and peered his head out of it, with luck, Ben’s mother would still be out there, and he may recognise her from their little fling four years ago. Not to his surprise, the street only held its usual occupants, people walking by for work, neighbours bringing the garbage out for the bin lorry, children on their way to school and so on.

“Are... are you really my daddy?” Ben asked after a moment, causing Roger to withdraw from the window. He sat, slightly deflated; this was real, not some sort of dream.

“Well... yes, it seems that way,” he leaned back and rubbed his eyes, trying to think of what to do next. “How about you sit, Ben? I’ll go and make some toast if you fancy it?”

Ben giggled excitedly and nodded, climbing up the sofa which was a mountain in comparison to the tiny boy. Roger watched him struggle for a moment before taking him under the armpits and assisting him.

As soon as he was put down, Ben flinched away from him, bracing himself by tucking his head down to the level of his shoulders and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh god no,” Roger panicked, sitting on his knees in front of the sofa to make himself eye-level with the boy, “I wasn’t going to hit you, I’d never ever hit you.” 

Ben opened his eyes, still trying to make himself as small as possible, just in case. “Promise?” He asked in a small and meek voice, eyeing the man opposite with his large green eyes.

“I promise,” He smiled softly, hoping the four-year-old wouldn’t be intimidated. Ben relaxed, sitting up and looking deeply and Roger’s face. Ever so slowly and gently, he reached out and slowly petted his long blonde locks of hair and smiled a tiny bit.

“Mummy says boys can’t have long hair,” Ben said, in awe that his father was almost ‘breaking the law’ of hair that his mother had clearly set down.

“Well clearly mummy was wrong, do you like my hair?” Ben nodded enthusiastically, “Well that’s all that matters. What _you_ like, not anyone else. Toast?”

Ben nodded once more and Roger got to his feet, entering the kitchen and taking some slices of bread out and placing them in the toaster.

 _I’ve got to call Bri_ was his first thought when he had the moment alone to think. He grabbed the landline and dialled the number he called the most, to gain advice from his best friend.

“Hello, May household-“ Brian began on the other side of the line, sounding cheery as possible at this time in the morning. He would’ve likely just gotten in after dropping Gwilym off at school.

“Cut that crap, it’s me,” Roger interrupted quickly.

“Roger? Strange to hear from you at 8 am, let alone after a piss up like you had last night,” he chuckled, “Are you okay?” He suddenly asked, realising the unusual behaviour from his friend could be a cause for worry; maybe someone had taken advantage of him while drunk, or he was in danger, or didn’t know where he was.

“Calm your tits, I’m fine and I don’t have long-“

“Then what’s wrong, for Christ sakes! You’re worrying me, Rog! Why don’t you have long?” The questions spewed down the line.

“I don’t have long because I’m waiting for the toast to pop up and also I have a kid and I need your help.” He explained shortly.

“Pardon?!” He choked. “A child?! Roger what the... what the fuck?!”

Roger winced, it was unusual for Brian to swear nowadays, not since the birth of Gwil. He wanted to set a good example and expected everyone else to do the same when around the children. (Roger may have accidentally taught Rami a word or two the last time he babysat him for Freddie and Jim, and that was when the rule extended from just the parents to ‘Uncle Roger’, too).

“I know it’s crazy and I can hardly believe it, his name is Ben and he’s 4, he was dumped on my doorstep this morning and apparently he was a result of a little one night stand... oh god I just realised that was when I was still with Dom! I cheated on her!”

“Forget about Dominique, are you even sure this is your child?” Brian asked.

“Yes, he’s the spitting image of me when I was a kid, I swear.” The toaster popped up and made Roger jump, “Look, I’ve got to go, I’ve left him for too long and the toast is ready. Bri, what am I meant to do?” He whined.

Brian sighed, “Take today to bond with him, make sure he takes a nap this afternoon, who knows how long he’s been awake. Make sure you feed him with healthy and nutritious stuff and not just sugar, you really don’t want a hyperactive kid. Take him to the park? Play toys with him? Maybe give him a bath later on before bed, I’m sure it’ll make him feel more comfortable not only around you but his new environment.” 

“You’re a lifesaver,” Roger let out, “how can I thank you?” 

“Don’t worry about thanking, I’ll be round first thing tomorrow morning to bring you some groceries and give a helping hand, good luck.”

“Thank you,” Roger repeated, “See you tomorrow.” 

Brian repeated the saying before the line went dead. Roger placed the telephone down and buttered the toast, realising how scarce his fridge actually was: leftover Chinese and some plain yoghurt wasn’t going to keep a 4 year old satisfied.

God, he had a lot more responsibility than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter down... I'll hopefully update soon but with all the usual things that writers blame not updating their books for are going on, but soon I'll have a nice chunk of free time! Also sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes :)


	3. Moët et Chandon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Roger bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Killer Queen - Queen  
> -  
> when I said large chunk of free time I didn’t mean COVID-19 (coronavirus) but here we are lmao
> 
> I hope you’re all well! Wash your hands and please stay at home for your own and others safety!
> 
> As always, I apologise for spelling and grammar. I’ll come back and fix it at some point.

Roger quickly buttered the toast and cut it into four squares for the little boy to make it easier for him to consume.

Everything still felt so surreal, last night he was an ‘eligible bachelor’, he was young and free and was allowed to get absolutely shitfaced and the only people who would care was his mates. Today he woke up a father, a single one at that, and he had to true and provide for himself and Ben now. He knew it would be difficult, it wasn’t exactly easy providing for just himself, Sheer Heart Attack had brought in enough to keep him steady, but not enough for any luxuries (only a few nights out a week if he really spreads his earnings thin).

It was because he hadn’t many songs in the album, and on a pay-per-song basis, Brian and Freddie were making much more than himself and Deacy.

However, it was still early days, Christmas had yet to pass and the album was expected to do well over the holiday period, but the single had kept them all going for now.

Roger’s attention was drawn back to the living room when he heard a small crashing noise and loud gasp from Ben. He quickly grabbed the (almost cold) plate of toast and rushed into the living room. He saw Ben kneeling in front of his personal vinyl collection with various different artists in different genres, unlike the other members of Queen, Roger liked to stay up to date on what was currently popular in order to help dictate where their own music should go. He also had a stash of Queen stuff which he kept hidden away in the cupboard so his ego didn’t look too inflated whenever he brought someone home.

”You okay there, bud?” He asked, setting the plate down and kneeling next to Ben and propping the vinyl back up again where it had been knocked down by the eager 4-year-old.

“I’m sorry daddy, it was an accident,” he apologised in his littlest voice one could muster.

”I’m not mad,” Roger said nonchalantly, trying to change the subject, “I take it that you like music?” Ben nodded, his face relaxing into a huge grin. Roger also smiled at the little boy - he _was_ adorable, he couldn’t deny that. “Who’s your favourite singer?”

Ben pondered on the subject for a while, trying to choose one of what seemed like many options. “Umm... David Bowie,” he said adamantly.

“Oo he’s one of my favourites, too,” He said, and Ben grinned at the concept that his father agreed with his opinion. “What’s his best song?”

It took less time for Ben to decide. “I like the new one, ‘Rebel Rebel’.” The ‘r’s sounded more like ‘w’s which made Roger’s heart soar. Last night he could’ve never even considered thinking being a father, but today he had felt such an overwhelming feeling of love and paternal instincts had already begun to kick in. _How could his mother not love him?!_

"Oh! And... and there's one on the radio I like," He continued, "But... I don't know the name," he finished defeatedly. Roger, now realising his bare chest and mess of the flat, came up with a quick way to entertain and keep Ben preoccupied whilst he went about with errands.

“Well,” Roger proposed to him, “How about I leave you hear with the radio on to eat your toast and I do some chores? That way you can call me when your song comes on. How does that sound?” 

Ben nodded excitedly and dashed to the sofa, claiming up it and settling himself comfortably in the corner. With a smile on his face, Roger passed the plate of toast to him. He watched Ben take a hesitant nibble before deciding it was adequate and ate more. Satisfied, he left to his bedroom to get dressed and clean.

Once dressed, he drew the curtains and let the blinding winter sunlight fill the room. The same sunlight that was irritating his hangover barely an hour ago. Which reminded him of the dull pain in his head - he’d tend to that with a large glass of water later.

After sorting his clothes into a laundry basket and finally putting the clothes he had left folded on the side for a long time into drawers, Roger couldn’t help but reminisce on times he had with his bandmate’s children, hell, he remembered the first time John brought Joe to a band practice becuase Veronica had an event and how Roger was allowed to hold him (which he wasn’t ever really trusted to do with any of the kids) whilst his dad played his bass and how he was the one who had finally made him drift off to sleep after hours of the other three attempting. Of course with the massive, smug feeling of pride that they didn’t trust him but he managed to do it anyways.

Or the time where Rami had given them all a piano recital after his first few weeks of Freddie teaching him. The funniest memory was when Brian let Gwilym hold his Red Special for the first time, and how Gwil would constantly play the D chord (which he was recently taught) pretending to be his dad.

And now Roger got to experience this, he hoped Ben would take interest in an instrument, whether it be drums or guitar - he was more than happy to teach either. Which also reminded him that he hadn’t a clue he was a father until an hour ago; he had no idea of Ben’s existence nor did he know what he was doing at all. 

It felt stressful yet rewarding. He was kicked into shape by the random arrival of a kid - he hadn’t cleaned in _weeks_ and now Ben was here, he was picking up anything the boy could get tangled in or hurt himself on. 

Moving onto the kitchen, Roger began to clean down counter tops and while scrubbing at some dishes he heard the call of “Daddy! The song! The song!!”

Roger rushed into the room, his ears filling with the familiar clicks, followed by the great voice of Freddie Mercury singing ‘ _She keeps a Moët et Chandon in a pretty cabinet..._ ’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the kudos on my previous chapters🥺


End file.
